To Tame a Bride

The harsh set of his mouth was surprisingly intimidating. And effective. Madison hesitated a moment before reaching for the suitcase. When she did, those dark eyes fell away to focus on the small case.

Madison opened the large suitcase, gave everything a token perusal, then snapped it shut. She went through the garment bag just as swiftly.

“Valium?”

The gruff question got her attention and Madison glanced Linc’s way. He’d got the small case open and she automatically reached for it before the grim look on his face registered. He was holding a prescription bottle between two callused fingers.

“You addicted to these things?” His obvious disapproval made her give a quick, “Of course not.” He ignored her outstretched hand.

“How often do you take them?”

She leaned forward to claim the bottle from him, but he closed his hand and held it just out of reach.

“How often?” The no-nonsense look he was giving her warned he meant business.

Madison’s temper shot high and hot. “None of your business. Give them to me.”

Instead, he glanced down at the bottle to read the label. “Looks like a big dose for a beginner.”

She felt her face flush. “Are you suggesting I’m an addict?”

He leveled a hard look on her and studied her face a moment. “What’s a woman like you got to be nervous about?”

The low question hit her like a slap. Line Coryell had not only gone over the line, he’d managed to strike deep into painful places. The emotion that surged up caught her by surprise and her eyes were suddenly stinging.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” she shot back, dismayed that her voice was choked. And that made her angry. “Give me the bottle.”

Linc slipped it into his shirt pocket and buttoned the pocket flap. The action sent her temper skyrocketing.

“How dare you?” Her voice shook with outrage.

“You keep asking that, Miz Maddie,” he said calmly, his gaze unwavering. “I dare a lot, and I’ll dare a damn sight more in the next few days. But I’d rather walk out of here with a neurotic sissy on my hands than a neurotic stoned sissy.” He nodded in the direction of her luggage. “Now let’s get that out of the way.”

The quick shift of subject and his smooth move to reach for the large suitcase caught her off guard.

He had it open in a moment and began to sort through everything. The sight of his big hands rifling carelessly through her personal belongings offended her.

“I need everything there,” she repeated, then reached over to close the lid of the suitcase. Before she could, Line seized her wrist. Her gaze flew to his.

“Look around, Maddie.”

The solemn order sent a spear of terror through her that made her forget her luggage. The utter grimness on Linc’s face was unmistakable. A picture of dense green forest and high mountains flashed in her mind. But the endless forest she’d glimpsed from the sky would look even more awesome and terrible from the ground. The weird sensation she had—that the wilderness was closing in around them—sent her terror bounding higher. In spite of Linc’s order, she couldn’t look around, couldn’t make herself.

CHAPTER THREE

LINC SAW THE TERROR in her eyes. He could also see that she was in shock. Madison St. John might be vain and obsessed with her looks, but she wasn’t stupid. She had at least enough common sense to know they couldn’t carry everything out of the mountains with them. Her fixation on her luggage was a denial of what lay ahead for them both: a long and probably dangerous hike through the wilderness. And certainly the worst hardship imaginable for a pampered little aristocrat like her.

He felt the weight of the valium bottle in his pocket. If she couldn’t cope with life’s little jiggles without sedation, she’d never get through this. Instinct warned him not to coddle her. If he did, she’d go to pieces. If he could tap into her legendary temper and distract her, they’d both be better off.

He released her. He ignored the way she rubbed the wrist he’d touched, almost as if she was trying to soothe away pain. There shouldn’t have been any pain for her to soothe.

He hesitated a moment more to study her pale face. She wasn’t looking at him now; she was staring to the left of the suitcase into the grass. Her slim, perfectly manicured fingers still circled her wrist, but the soothing motion she made was an absent one. Clearly, her mind was on other things—and from the stark look of vulnerability about her—she was about to fall apart.

Linc glanced into the suitcase. He spied a small, neatly folded stack of frilly panties and grabbed them. They were the first things he sent sailing into the grass, making sure they landed in the exact spot her eyes were focused on. A flimsy scrap of bra followed before he got down to business with the contents of her suitcase and silently counted the seconds.

Two...three...

“How dare you?”

She’d used that low cat growl again. He pretended to ignore her as he lifted out a sky-blue satin robe and stripped the tie belt from its loops. He discarded the robe beside the suitcase, but tossed the belt toward the duffel bag. He added two rolls of thick white socks to the satin belt, and a stack of packaged panty hose. Next, a fold of netting got his attention and he pulled it out. It was a bag, probably for dirty clothes, and it was a good size. He gripped the netting in his hands and gave it a stout yank to test its strength before he tossed it to the pile on top of the duffel bag.

Madison looked on, appalled at his rough treatment of her belongings. It was clear that he only meant to select a few odds and ends from her suitcase before he forced her to leave everything else behind. She clutched the wad of panties and bra to herself. My God she couldn’t go anywhere without clean underwear! The fact that he’d thrown her most intimate apparel into the grass with bugs and chiggers infuriated her.

Wary of him because he was so rough with her things, Madison cautiously reached for the satin robe and bundled her underwear in it. She retrieved the net bag from the top of his duffel and stuffed the rolled robe into it.

Linc got out her shoebag next and rummaged through it, selecting the athletic shoes she’d had packed. He tossed them in her direction and they fell to the ground at her feet.

“Put those on and take the laces out of the boots you’re wearing.”

Madison stared down at the shoes, then at the lightweight boots. “These are hiking boots,” she said, struggling to keep her voice steady while she defied the order. She’d accidentally glimpsed the dense wall of trees on the other side of the high meadow. The sensation of wilderness creeping closer was strong again. Arguing with Linc was the only thing she could think of to distract herself from mindless terror.

“Fakes,” he said bluntly. “The leather’s like paper compared to the other pair.”

Madison stared down at the white athletic shoes, her thoughts racing. The very fact that he’d ordered her to switch her faux hiking boots for sturdy athletic shoes suggested that he anticipated an ordeal far more lengthy and arduous than a short hike in the woods. And he was right about the boots. The leather was flimsy compared to the Nikes.

“Change the damned shoes, Princess. We’ve only got so much daylight.”

The terse order brought her eyes to his face, but he wasn’t looking at her. He grabbed the things he’d discarded and crammed them back into her suitcase before he closed the lid and pressed down on the latches. Then he unzipped her garment bag to paw through the carefully pressed clothing in there. He added another belt to the pile, then two crisply pressed pairs of jeans and two cotton blouses.

Madison quickly grabbed the jeans and blouses and packed them into the net bag. Thank goodness she wouldn’t have to fight with him about extra clothes. At least she’d have something clean to wear later.

Later.

How much later? How many hours would it take to walk back to civilization?

Her next thought—that she might not get to Aspen in time to catch her mother—set off an explosion of panic.

“How long will it take to get to Aspen?”

Linc looked at her then, his mouth shifting into a sarcastic slant as he harshly surveyed her from head to foot. “The way you’re movin’, about a month.” He swiftly zipped the garment bag and shoved it toward the suitcase before he stood.

Madison couldn’t seem to move as the implication of not getting to Aspen in time began to impact her. If she embarrassed her mother with her new husband by not showing up, she’d never hear from Roz again. She’d forever lose the chance to be close to her. Roz would never know she’d outgrown her homeliness. She’d never know a moment’s sorrow for giving up on her only child and abandoning her.

“Get busy, sweetheart.”

The order snapped her out of her thoughts. The way he’d said the word “sweetheart” was no endearment. She-hated the male condescension in his low drawl. And she loathed the pet name, “Princess”.

Her gaze narrowed with sudden inspiration.